


Through Bright Glass

by Carenejeans



Category: Sherlock BBC
Genre: Kinks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carenejeans/pseuds/Carenejeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John discovers an unexpected use for Sherlock's favourite tool</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Bright Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) (amnesty); Square: Pervertibles  
> Thanks to Unovis and Tehomet for beta-reading

John settled into the sofa, stretched his legs out in front of him, picked up a book and sighed contentedly. Sunday morning, no place to go. Sherlock was on the sofa next to him, hunched over his magnifying glass, examining the workings of an antique pocket watch.

"Forgery." Sherlock snapped the watch's case shut. "Good one." He dropped the watch on the coffee table and slid the magnifier into a pocket of his dressing gown.

"Call Lestrade?" John said, his hand snaking towards Sherlock's pocket. "You're going to lose that."

"Later." Sherlock looked at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on the side of the couch. "He might work it out for himself. You never know." He looked down at John's hand rummaging in his clothing. "What are you doing?"

John's fingers closed on the magnifier. "You want the shower first?"

"You go on," Sherlock said, his eyes following John's hand.

John slid the magnifier open, and idly peered through it at the skin of his hand. A forest of hairs leaped up at him. He turned the magnifier this way and that, as he'd watched Sherlock do so often, peering at suddenly enlarged bits of upholstery, blue dressing gown, Sherlock's fingertips, wrist… he heard Sherlock's breath catch, and looked up.

Sherlock was staring at the magnifier, his eyes bright and fixed on his familiar instrument, seemingly arrested by the sight of it in John's hand. His lips were parted and his breath had gone slightly ragged. Arrested in turn by the sight of Sherlock so expectedly aroused, John watched, fascinated, as Sherlock licked his lips and pressed them together, his gaze sliding away from the magnifier then snapping back to it. Sherlock started to squirm and fidget, and John smiled, waiting for him to explode into either lust or a disquisition on the history of magnifying devices. Their eyes met, and Sherlock looked away quickly, but not before John had seen the flare of panic in his eyes.

John snapped the magnifier shut, feeling awkward, as if he'd trespassed on something too private even for their admittedly odd intimacy. But Sherlock didn't pull away from him, so after a moment, John opened it again and raised the magnifier to Sherlock's throat, where he could see his pulse beating rapidly under his fine pale skin. Sherlock's eyelashes fluttered and his breath became more ragged, but he didn't move away. Neither did he look at John.

 _Oh, Sherlock._ John's chest constricted. _It's only me._ He turned the magnifier to Sherlock's cheek, his lips, his eyelashes. He blinked as Sherlock stared into the lens, his eye suddenly, comically enormous. John bit back a nervous giggle and brought Sherlock's lips into focus again.

"John." Sherlock's voice was lower than John had ever heard it, dark with tension and something else. Hope?

For an answer, John kissed him softly, his eyes open. Sherlock's eyes were open, too, and John watched the uneasiness in his eyes soften and change to anticipation. A thrill shivered through him, though something in him hurt for Sherlock, who hid so many of his strange and simple desires. He held the magnifier before Sherlock's face, and Sherlock watched it as if it were a mesmerist's device, his gaze following as John moved it downwards. Down Sherlock's long, graceful neck, pausing at his collarbone, down to the V of his dressing gown, and the bare skin revealed there.

Slowly, carefully, John spread apart the lapels of Sherlock's dressing gown, peering through the magnifier at Sherlock's chest with its sparse hair -- much hairier through a magnifying glass, John thought to himself, smiling slightly. He let his palm rest briefly over Sherlock's pounding heart. His fingers traced their way down Sherlock's chest, following the progress of the magnifier, and came to the knot of the dressing gown's belt. John pulled one of the ends and it all unraveled. Down, down. The elastic of Sherlock's pajamas, the simple fly, straining apart from the bulge of Sherlock's erection. John studied it carefully through the magnifier, waiting until he could tell, from Sherlock's breath and the twitching of his hips, that Sherlock was beginning to suffer, then slid his hand under the waistband and wrapped his fingers around Sherlock's cock, and stroked gently, all the while holding the magnifier above, watching through the glass that enlarged and distorted his hand, Sherlock's cock.

Sherlock shifted on the cushions and raised his hips so John could pull his pajamas down to his knees, then to his ankles. He kicked them off and spread his knees, and John settled between them, first looking solemnly through the magnifier at one of Sherlock's knees and then the other, which made Sherlock laugh softly. Then Sherlock inhaled sharply as John ran one finger up his thigh, the magnifier following the line that appeared briefly in Sherlock's skin, until he had a splendid view of Sherlock's magnified genitals.

Sherlock was moaning, almost inaudibly, then quite audibly when John leaned forward and ran his tongue from the base of Sherlock's cock to its tip. John examined it through the magnifier, smiled, and licked again. He looked up at Sherlock, who was staring down at him with an expression that wavered between desire and laughter -- and something else that John didn't understand, but touched him so strongly it made him rise up between Sherlock's thighs to kiss him, hard. Sherlock returned the kiss, holding John's face between his hands, running his fingers through John's hair, patting down the sides of his neck, pulling at his ears, touching John's cheeks with his fingertips.

John held up the magnifier, and Sherlock looked at it, then at John, then closed his eyes as John began stroking him again. John tapped him on the cheek with the magnifier, and the blue eyes flew open, but his eyes focused on John's face, not the small glass. He watched John hungrily, panting and moaning something that sounded like John's name translated into a fierce, unknown tongue, until his hips jerked and bucked under John's hand. His eyes flickered briefly to the magnifier that John still held near Sherlock's face. John touched it to Sherlock's cheek and was almost undone when Sherlock threw back his head and cried out -- clearly, unmistakably -- John's name. He came with such abandon and ecstasy that John buried his face in Sherlock's shoulder, his panting breath matching Sherlock's. He clutched the magnifier in his fist. _Jesus God._

Sherlock's body went boneless under him, they collapsed together in a heap, John's fingers relaxed, and the magnifier clattered to the floor.

"You're going to lose that," John mumbled into Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock huffed and bent awkwardly to scoop it up. "I don't think so." He examined the magnifier, turning it between his fingers as if caressing it, snapping it open and shut. He seemed about to say something, then hesitated, looking at John slantwise, his eyes unreadable. John waited. Finally Sherlock brought the magnifier to John's face and snapped it open one more time.

"John." It was a question. It was a thousand questions.

"Yes," John said, staring into the wrong end of the tiny curved glass. Looking away from it to meet Sherlock's intent gaze, John suddenly felt he could see deep into Sherlock's eyes, straight through to his wild, absurd, genius brain. That he knew exactly what Sherlock was thinking. That somehow, he always had. He blinked, and the feeling was gone.

Sherlock raised the magnifier and peered through it to study the end of John's nose.

John smiled. One of his hands was sticky. He wrapped the other around Sherlock's wrist, rubbing his thumb along Sherlock's pulse. "Yes."

  
\--End--


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